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Images and stories to spark imagination and whisper to the soul.

“I will meet you there.” Dad said, putting his hand on my shoulder and looking intently in my eyes.

So, here I am, waiting. Everything depends on this. Dad is not here and he is always there. His previous earnestness gave me pause. It was as if he needed the conviction in order to increase his likelihood of showing up. I waited, amongst the summer trees and grass and breeze, a dream fading.

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